


What the Moon Saw

by Dracoduceus



Series: Cupid's Pony Express [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Centaur Hanzo Shimada, Knotting, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Teratophilia, Werewolf Jesse McCree, brief cameos of other characters, minor blood, non-explicit animal death (they go hunting)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: To most it was just a meteorological quirk. To werewolves and other shifters affected by the phases of the moon, it was like a drug. It affected everyone differently.Leading up to the lunar eclipse, McCree was antsy and irritable. Everyone walked on eggshells...everyone except Hanzo. Hanzo had nothing to fear from McCree even at his wildest.No. He has something on his mind other thanfear.





	What the Moon Saw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WereKem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WereKem/gifts), [ShittyHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShittyHero/gifts).



> Written on the night of the lunar eclipse in January. Not really sure why I didn't post it until now, months later, when I was poking around in my Google Docs and finding all sorts of hidden goodies. 
> 
> This particular one is set in the same universe as the [Ugly Sweater](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822996/chapters/39744399) in my December Prompts stories, and my [Bendoverwatch Kink Week](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829614/chapters/42069296) prompts. 
> 
> There are other pieces to accompany this series, drawn by the wonderful [IchigoWhiskey](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) such as [Sagittarius](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1070887673852760065), this comic regarding [baby's first cuss](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1105329199815028736), [a discussion about floaties](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1088282652359225344), and [Centaur Hanzo in lingerie](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey/status/1069982196805492736). 
> 
> Posted because I found this in my folders and shared with Kem who then made sad faces at me in chat when I said that I didn't intend to post it. And here I am now...lol

“Will you be alright?” Hana asked, perhaps a bit needlessly. 

It was understandable, though: she was from a long line of rabbit shifters and though the gene had passed over her, a rabbit’s instinctive fear of snapping jaws was deeply ingrained. Dae-hyun watched nervously, fearful as ever of such enormous people around him. He coiled in his snake form around Hana’s neck, tongue flicking out every few seconds. 

Fearlessly, Hana stroked along his chin and neck. “We have shifters on the team but no one is quite as affected by the moon as you are.” 

“I’ll be fine,” McCree growled rather unconvincingly. Fur was already sprouting on his body even though it was barely three in the afternoon. His eyes were golden and wild, his ears pointed and his teeth pointed and dangerous. 

Those at lunch looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” Hana continued on tactlessly. “But will  _ Hanzo _ ?” 

Hanzo snorted, his ears pinning. “Even if he were to attack, which he will not,” he added firmly. “I am able to fend off a hungry werewolf if necessary.” 

“Just drop it,” Torbjörn said gruffly. “What will be, will be.” 

Hana scowled at him. “Well excuse me if I’m concerned!” 

“We’ll be fine,” Hanzo and McCree said in unison and paused to exchange glances. 

But the conversation was clearly weighing on McCree through the rest of the meal. “Go on,” Ana said gruffly, coming to take their plates. “You’ll feel better with the blood of the hunt in you.” 

After a brief detour to Hanzo’s room to get his gear, he found McCree in the plains near the base, pacing in his wolf form. He paused to admire his mate: on all fours his shoulders were sloped like a hyena’s and he stood as tall as Hanzo’s withers. A formidable beast if he were indeed such a thing: when Hanzo called out a greeting, the enormous shaggy head turned to look at him, McCree’s ears perked forward, and he gave a bitten-off howl. 

It was part Pack-Song, part Mate-Song, a particular greeting that he usually gave during the pull of the moon. 

Hanzo trotted over, reaching down to run a hand through McCree’s ruff. They circled each other like that for a bit, McCree sniffing after his hooves and hindquarters in canine greeting, and Hanzo circling because it was polite. 

“I bet I can catch something before you can,” Hanzo teased, drawing an arrow. 

McCree’s head lifted, his ears pinning. Even as a wolf he did not like to be teased like that. He bared a tooth:  _ you’re on _ . 

Digging his hindquarters into the dirt, Hanzo broke into a gallop, aiming for the path that he took during his morning meditations. Ears twisted back, Hanzo heard McCree howl—Hunt-Song—and give chase. 

They darted into the trees together. 

Tipping his head back, Hanzo howled when he shot a deer, grinning to himself when he heard McCree return his howl. He thundered after the injured deer, dodging when it turned toward him. 

Hanzo spun as the deer wobbled. A moment later an enormous shape broke through the trees and McCree snapped his jaws tight around the deer’s neck. He shook it like a terrier until it was still. 

Growling, McCree looked up at Hanzo, his mouth stained with blood. “Go on,” Hanzo told him gently. “All yours, my love.” 

McCree gave him a low  _ wuff _ noise and dipped his head to tear into it. Satisfied, Hanzo knelt and lay down on his side, setting aside his bow and arrows. He watched McCree finish up the meal and then turn his luminous eyes toward him. 

“Hello, dearest,” Hanzo murmured as McCree approached, his ears pricked forward. He held out a  hand in offering, smiling when McCree’s bloody jaws nosed against his fingertips. McCree whined and as he circled Hanzo, he could see the pink skin of his hard cock, having emerged from its sheath as he ate. 

Hanzo hummed, flicking his tail to the side, watching as McCree’s eyes tracked the motion hungrily. “What other kind of hunger can I sate in you?”

His mate growled, his ears pricked forward, circling again and again. 

Then he pounced, his hips bucking roughly. Hanzo could feel the hot line of McCree’s cock brushing against his hindquarters, his claws digging into his withers, his hot breath on the back of his neck. It reeked of iron and blood and Hanzo grunted, his tail twitching aside. 

Like this he couldn’t help, couldn’t reach to guide McCree’s cock where they both wanted it, could only sit there while McCree’s hips hunched eagerly, growling each time it missed its mark. He reached back, twisting, to bury his hands in McCree’s thick ruff. Blood dripped from his panting mouth, forming along Hanzo’s back and withers. 

“Mount me,” Hanzo hissed to him. “Let me feel how eager the moon has made you.” 

McCree snarled and the tapered tip of his cock caught— _ finally! _ —on Hanzo’s ass. He bucked his hips forward, far rougher than he would typically be during his moon shifts. There was usually lengthy preparation before McCree shifted but this was different. 

Hanzo could nearly  _ smell _ the primal need rolling off of McCree, could feel it in the way that he bucked his cock deeper. It burned, would probably have Hanzo walking strangely back to base, but right now it was perfect. He arched his back, his hooves digging into the grass when he felt the bump of McCree’s knot. 

Behind him, McCree whined, nosing at Hanzo’s arched neck and shoulders. Hanzo could smell the blood, hot and coppery, as it was smeared on his exposed skin. Any protest he may have had died at McCree’s first ragged thrust. 

McCree whined and Hanzo tipped his head, twisting awkwardly. He buried his fingers in McCree’s thick ruff, trying to relax. Normally there was more preparation. 

It burned, the scrape of skin on skin. McCree’s cock was leaking generously but it still wasn’t enough. “Give me a moment, dearest,” he gasped, regretting his rash actions. “Just a moment to breathe.” 

Whining, McCree’s claws slipped on his withers and dug painfully into his thick hide. Hanzo yelped, clenching painfully around McCree’s cock. In turn McCree groaned, bucking his hips once, twice, before shuddering to a stop with a low whine. 

Hanzo took a few deep breaths, whining when McCree pulled out and stepped back. He groaned instead when McCree’s hot breath ghost across his tail. The first brush of his tongue was hot, almost painfully so on his tender skin, but the next was wetter, somehow even hotter, and Hanzo groaned, letting his torso fall forward. He tried to spread his legs as much as possible, his tail lifted and held helpfully to the side as much as he could. 

Behind him, McCree grumbled, growled, and lapped eagerly at his twitching hole, his tongue catching on where he had already been fucked open. He wiggled his tongue deeper, smearing thick spit and leftover blood in lieu of proper lube. 

He whined and Hanzo twisted. “Come on,” he managed to gasp out, hard and eager despite his earlier pain. “Mount me.” 

McCree lunged and by some supreme luck his tapered cock caught on the first thrust, sliding home with a wet sound. Spit, even spit as viscous as McCree’s wolf form’s, was not proper lube but for the moment it was enough that Hanzo could ignore it for the moment and enjoy the rough stretch. 

McCree was clearly at his wit’s end, clearly beyond holding himself back and Hanzo couldn’t blame him and groaned as McCree began fucking him roughly, his claws digging painfully into Hanzo’s withers as he struggled to grip him properly, to give himself leverage to buck his hips deeper. He could feel McCree’s clawed legs slipping on the grass, could feel his swelling knot butting against his tender hole. 

It took a moment for Hanzo to realize that McCree was making low grunts and high-pitched whines, as if he were holding back. “Let me hear you,” Hanzo gasped. “Come on, my dearest. The moon is hot in your blood. Show me how hungry you are.” 

Growling, McCree’s ears pinned, and his hips bucked forward, rougher. He snarled, making high-pitched yowls that edged on howls that hurt Hanzo’s ears. McCree’s claws dug painfully into his sides, making him yelp at the sting. He groaned when he clenched around McCree’s hard cock, feeling the insistent nudge of his knot bumping into his abused ass. 

“Mark me, McCree,” Hanzo hissed. “Show everyone that I’m yours.” 

McCree’s rough thrusts made his hindquarters jerk, made Hanzo’s own hard cock rub delightfully against the grass beneath him. It was entirely wishful thinking that he thought that he heard McCree crying out his name—like this his snout was not suited for human speech, much less to be able to say Hanzo’s name—but he indulged in it, listening as it morphed into a howl. 

Then McCree’s jaws clamped on Hanzo’s shoulder and he howled himself, bucking backwards into McCree’s irregular thrusts. McCree hunched his hips, digging his claws into the grass and forcing his knot forward—painfully, because Hanzo was not ready, had not been prepared as lovingly as he usually was—into Hanzo. 

He gasped, arching his back, and caught sight of the enormous orange face of the blood moon. “My love,” he gasped. “Knot me, claim me, show me that I belong to you. Show the moon.” 

McCree howled, muffled around Hanzo’s bleeding shoulder, and shuddered as he came, his knot swelling just that final bit in Hanzo’s tender ass. He burned in Hanzo as he came, feeling as if he were filled with liquid fire. 

He would  _ definitely _ be walking funny for some time. 

Behind him, McCree continued to pant, lying almost limply over Hanzo’s hindquarters. “There we are, my dearest,” Hanzo crooned, reaching back to run his hands through McCree’s thick ruff. “Have you gotten the fire out of your blood?”

He knew that McCree wasn’t done, would not  _ be _ done for some time. The pull of the full moon was strong—he couldn’t imagine what this lunar eclipse was doing to McCree. 

But McCree groaned, lying flat over Hanzo’s back so that his head nudged at Hanzo’s upper waist as if soliciting pets. He licked at Hanzo’s fingers as if in apology and Hanzo smiled.

They both grunted when McCree’s knot slipped out, followed by a veritable deluge of come. McCree growled and backed up, shoving his nose under Hanzo’s tail and taking a few eager sniffs. 

Hanzo jumped, tail flicking and hind legs kicking in surprise. He groaned, letting his torso fall forward, as McCree’s tongue lapped at the spend leaking from him. His own cock, left unattended and forgotten beneath him, began twitching in interest once more. 

McCree followed the thin lines of come, lapping at Hanzo’s balls and then nudging at his thighs. Immediately Hanzo rolled over, unafraid of McCree even moon-drunk as he was, and was rewarded when McCree nudged eagerly at his sheath, lapping eagerly at it and tracing the great girth of Hanzo’s cock. 

Surprised, Hanzo arched and came, gasping as McCree worked him through it with that terrible tongue of his, lapping at the sensitive tip. When he looked up at Hanzo, the fur around his mouth was ringed in white. 

Hanzo let his head fall back as McCree climbed on his belly, letting his snout rest on that barrier between skin and fur. He could feel McCree’s cock, which hadn’t softened with his knot, bump against his balls and the insides of his thighs. 

“Again, my love?” he breathed. “Alright. Fuck me full, dearest.” 

With an aborted little howl, McCree hunched his hips, the tip of his tapered cock rubbing over Hanzo’s balls, nudging at the soft opening of his sheath. Hanzo gasped as the very tip dipped in, bumping against his softening cock. 

McCree whined, looking up at Hanzo with pleading eyes. “Yes,” Hanzo gasped. “Yes, you can.” 

With a little howl of glee, McCree bucked his hips roughly, his cock popping out. Grumbling, McCree braced his claws on Hanzo’s barrel, nudging his cock against Hanzo’s sheath. Snarling in frustration, McCree backed up and bucked his hips. 

By chance it caught on Hanzo’s tender ass and he groaned, arching his upper back as McCree began to roughly fuck him again, growling in frustration that his previous treat had been denied him. He was impatient, far rougher than Hanzo was used to, and he loved every moment of it. 

McCree snarled, lit from behind by the bright orange moon, and howled when he knotted Hanzo again. 

* * *

When McCree came to, he found himself draped dramatically over Hanzo’s broad back. His mate himself was deeply asleep, covered in blood and bite marks from a wild night with a werewolf. 

He had long since gotten over being upset by this, and drew his fingers over the bite and claw marks. If Hanzo did not consent he could very easily fight off the wolf, had proven it multiple times to McCree until he had been satisfied. 

Shifting slowly to not wake Hanzo, McCree climbed off and inspected his mate. A new binding mark on his shoulder, some minor scrapes, were all minor things. He walked around to Hanzo’s hindquarters and froze. 

Hanzo’s ass was wide and gaping, still leaking streams of white. How full he must have been fucked, how bloated with McCree’s come. Plugged with his knot and loving every second of it. Falling to his knees, he shifted Hanzo’s tail away and slid three fingers in, feeling the weak clench of Hanzo’s stretched muscles. 

Well, McCree smiled. What better way to thank his mate? Leaning down, he pressed a lewd kiss to the gaping mess of Hanzo’s ass and felt him groan, still asleep but reacting. 

Not for long. The moon, though long gone, was still singing in his veins and in every beat of his heart. McCree smirked and wiggled another finger in. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


End file.
